Better Demons of Our Nature
by aleandros137
Summary: When you tell a bunch of criminals that they're supposed to work together and save the world out of nowhere, there's bound to be friction. How do you lessen that friction? By actually getting them to like each other. Which is a lot easier said than done.


**Chapter 1: Is this the real life?**

It had been a long time since he'd been in a cell. What was it now? Five or six years?

"Get in there, Lawton."

One of the guards roughly shoved him inside the room. A stone grey cell with a bed in the corner and what he hoped wasn't piss on the floor.

Floyd straightened his back, turning to the guards. "You mind taking these off?" He said, sticking out his cuffs. "I chafe real easy."

The guards gave each other uneasy looks. They'd probably heard about what he did to the last guys who uncuffed him. Floyd tried not to smile.

"I don't bite. Promise." Floyd raised his hands, palms wide open.

They shared another look before one of them jerked their head to his direction. One of them, a shorter one with a head of curly brown hair walked in slowly like he was approaching a tiger.

Floyd kept his hands open as the guard fumbled with the keys. After a few shaky attempts, the guard inserted the key and the cuffs popped open. Floyd rubbed his tender wrists; he hadn't been lying about the chafing part.

"Thanks, man," he said, patting him on the shoulder. "You know, this almost makes me sorry about what I'm gonna do next."

The man hadn't even had time to register what he'd said before Floyd slammed his head against the wall and he slumped down to the floor, unconscious.

The other guard reached for his baton. "You crazy son of a bitch."

"What?" Floyd said, shrugging. "I said I wouldn't bite. Didn't say I wouldn't hurt him."

Floyd rolled his shoulders as the guard yelled for backup on his communicator. He could already hear the boots pounding against the ground. Around four- No, six. Floyd frowned. That was disappointing. He'd been hoping for at least ten. Oh well, he'd have to make do until next time he supposed.

"Come at me, bitches!"

* * *

Harely reached over to touch her toes, legs extended in a perfect split. She always liked to start off the day with a little light stretching. It wouldn't do to have her puddin' thinking she'd gotten all stiff while he was away. Then again, Harely thought to herself, a coy smile playing on her lips. It might not be so bad to have it be the other way around.

After she was done, she warmed up with a few flips and tumbles, always landing perfectly without a single hair out of place. She'd worked up a light sweat after a few minutes, making the fabric of her shirt(or what was left of it anyway) cling to her skin. Sh rested for a few moments, letting her heart rate fall back to its regular pace. That was when she realize she wasn't alone.

Harely turned around, grinning. "You know, some folks find it rude when you stare at them."

A man stepped out of the shadows, his mouth kept in a thin line. He had a closely cropped head of dark brown hair and deep-set eyes. He looked like one of the Army brat types whose father's father's father had served the country.

He wordlessly slipped a tray of food through the opening of her cell and stood back with his arms behind his back, stiff as a statue. Harley sauntered over, hips swaying as she walked.

"Hey, you're not my usual guy," Harley said, pouting her lips. "Where's the cute one with the curly brown hair?"

The man remained impassive, eyes staring forward.

Harley folded her arms, sulking. "Well, you're no fun."

"I'm not supposed to be."

Harley grinned. "Ah, so you can talk!"

The man remained silent.

She leaned against the bar, sticking her hands out through the gaps. "What's your name?"

He didn't answer.

"You have any shows you like to watch?"

He didn't answer.

"How about a favorite song?"

He didn't answer.

"A girlfriend?"

One of the corners of his mouth tightened. Gotcha.

"So you do have one?" Harley said, eyes twinkling. "What's her name?"

"Ma'am, please eat your meal quietly," he said in a gruff tone.

"Oh c'mon," Harley said teasingly. "I'm a psychiatrist, you know. Sure, relationship stuff's not really my field, but I can still help out."

"With all due respect, Miss Quinzel, you're the last person I would ask for relationship advice."

Harley scowled at that. "And what's that supposed to mean?"

Once again, the man didn't answer.

"You know, I'm starting to think you don't like me very much."

He kept staring forward. Harley wasn't even sure if he'd blinked once while he was talking to her.

"You could at least give me your name, you know?" Harley said. "I promise I'll stop bothering you after that."

The soldier glanced in her direction for a moment. Harley could see the wheels turning inside his head. Giving out his name for a little peace and quiet? Worth it.

"It's Rick. Colonel Rick Flag."

Harley couldn't help but snicker. "Flag? Really? Geez, no wonder you turned out a soldier."

Rick furrowed his brows. "I thought we had an agreement, Miss Quinzel."

"Alright, alright." Harley raised her hands in mock surrender. "Can't blame a girl for trying to lighten up the mood a bit. You probably don't get too many jokes around here eh, Rick?"

Harley nudged him in the arm. Rick stared at her like she'd just stabbed him with a knife.

"Please, Miss Quinzel-"

"Upupup," Harley said, raising a finger. "Call me Harley. Miss Quinzel makes me sound old."

Rick gave her one of those 'You've got to be kidding me' faces. It was a look she'd long grown accustomed to seeing by now. One that she delighted in actually. Oh how she enjoyed being vexing.

"It's just two syllables. Har-lee. Try it."

Rick bent down to her level and said in a low tone, "Let's get one thing straight here, Mizz Quinzel. I am not your friend, your acquaintance, or your fucking patient. I am a guard and you are a prisoner. Understood?"

Harley smiled before flicking his nose. "Boop."

Rick growled. "Turn on the generator."

Harley yelped as the electricity coursed through her veins, throwing her to the other side of the cell.

Well, that wasn't very nice.

* * *

 **AN: So I just watched Suicide Squad today and... I was kind of disappointed. It wasn't as bad as some reviews suggested, but overall, it was pretty lackluster for me. The acting was really good and I think that it could've been amazing with a better script and editing. What was really lacking though was character interaction. We got some good moments with Deadshot and Harely, but other than that they pretty much didn't talk to each other.**

 **The bar scene was a nice touch, but it could've been handled way better. If they'd actually showed them bonding and talking to each other, I think it could've been a much better film, and that's sort of what I'm trying to do here. Not exactly sure how often I'll be able to update this but hopefully, I'll be able to get the next chapter out soon.**

 **Anyways, hope to see what you guys think in the reviews.**

 **Till next time~**

 **-Aleandros137**


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